


the nearness of you

by eyeronicmuch



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Pining, the good stuff, yearning and crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 14:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30023412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeronicmuch/pseuds/eyeronicmuch
Summary: It starts like this: “Please be my boyfriend for a few weeks.”—Or, it’s not the best idea to fall in love with your fuck buddy, an even worse idea to fall in love with your fuck buddy you’re also fake dating. Wonwoo does it anyway.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu
Comments: 25
Kudos: 172





	the nearness of you

**Author's Note:**

> this is just.. pain.. but also not really 
> 
> a huge thank you to nisha for helping me with this I LOVE YOU

_More than anything_

_I wanted to heal you_

_to dip my hand_

_into the icy, raging river_

_of your pain_

_and draw out polished stones_

_one by one._

_— K. Augustus_

It starts like this: “Please be my boyfriend for a few weeks,” Mingyu is saying, hands clasped in front of him. He has this pleading look on his face that you couldn’t refuse even if you wanted to. 

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Minghao won’t hop off my back about it,” Mingyu groans, flopping on the couch besides Wonwoo. He nudges Wonwoo to scoot over, but their thighs still touch. “Says it’s time I start dating around already, and uh, you _know_ I don’t want to date around.”

“And yet you're asking me to date you.”

“Not date, just pretend. For a while. Then I’ll tell Minghao we broke it off and he’ll stop pestering me about it.” Noticing Wonwoo still doesn’t look convinced, he adds, desperate, “I’ll owe you a wish. Anything. Pretty please?”

“Anything?” Wonwoo considers. 

“Anything.”

Wonwoo doesn’t think much about it when he says, “Okay. Why not?”

Mingyu beams and kisses his cheek wetly out of happiness, and Wonwoo almost regrets all of his life decisions, but only by a small margin.

It’s not a lie, but it’s not a truth either. Wonwoo did understand the gravity of the situation when he said yes. Perhaps a selfish part of him wanted to have a part of Mingyu to himself, to call him his boyfriend. It’s a thought he’s entertained more than once, more than he’d like to admit. 

Mingyu then happily leans his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder like he always likes, “You’re seriously the best.”

Wonwoo smiles, not knowing how to reply, and they don’t speak more of it. 

—

But before that, it actually starts like this—Wonwoo waking up with a particularly bad headache and dull pain in his back. There’s a smell of freshly cooked food coming from the kitchen, and Wonwoo realizes there is someone in his apartment making breakfast. He has to blink twice in surprise and fright before remembering he went clubbing the night before.

“Hey,” the guy by the stove says. Wonwoo doesn’t remember his name, but he’s awfully pretty. There are red marks on his neck peeking from his turtleneck and his hair is in a disarray. Wonwoo nearly winces at how colourful they are. “I made eggs and toast, I hope you don’t mind.”

Wonwoo shakes his head, a little surprised by the gesture. “I appreciate it, thanks.”

The guy smiles, then frowns. He stands in the kitchen looking a little awkward and out of place, “Listen, I had a good time yesterday, but I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.” 

Wonwoo laughs at the guy’s nervousness. “It’s all chill. No worries.”

“Thank god,” the guy sighs in relief. “I have to get going for my lecture now, but I’ll see you around sometime maybe?” 

Things should’ve ended on that note: as strangers, never to see each other again. However, some time later, when Wonwoo’s clubbing again, he finds himself dancing with the same guy again. 

“Hey, it’s you again,” the guy says, smiling at Wonwoo with such familiarity as if they’re the best of friends, although his hands on Wonwoo’s waist say that they’re not friends at all. “Long time no see.”

“Hi there,” Wonwoo says. The blaring lights of the club flicker over the guy’s handsome face like the stage of the theatre and he’s the star in the center of it. He wraps a hand behind the guy’s neck, questioning, wanting, watching the guy shiver slightly at the touch, anticipating. “I suppose this is going to be a regular occurrence?”

“It could be,” the guy licks his lips. “If you want.”

Wonwoo nods and kisses him. There’s nothing sweet or tender about it but there’s something exciting in it at the same time. He kisses the guy, and he doesn’t even know his name, but that doesn’t even matter. What matters is the guy responding by kissing back, a whine stuck at the back of his throat, him tugging at Wonwoo’s sleeve as if to say let’s take this someplace else. 

Wonwoo ends up taking him back to his apartment. It’s starting to feel like a start of a routine, like a potential beginning of something. Wonwoo starts undressing the guy when the latter says, “Wait, wait,” panting, “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Mingyu.” 

Wonwoo laughs, “Wonwoo.” It should be a mood ruining moment but somehow it isn’t at all. “So, Mingyu,” he runs his hand over Mingyu’s bare chest, from his pectoral down to his abdomen, watching the muscles flex in its wake, “how do you want to do this tonight?” 

“However you’d like,” Mingyu says, but it comes out more like a breathless whine. “Just— touch me already.”

“Eager, aren’t we,” Wonwoo says. He kisses under Mingyu’s jaw and Mingyu lets out a little groan. “Oh, you’re so responsive.” 

“I was looking for you,” Mingyu admits.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo fumbles with Mingyu’s jeans and takes them off. He places his hand on Mingyu’s thighs and squeezes. Mingyu shuts his eyes and throws his head back on the pillow. 

“I wanted to see you again.”

Wonwoo feels something curl in his stomach, burning and wanting. Mingyu is so pretty underneath him. “Me too,” he says honestly. 

He kisses Mingyu again, and then when wakes up with Mingyu’s arm around him, something tells him this won’t be a one time thing. 

—

“No feelings, right?” Mingyu asks, putting on his clothes. 

“None,” Wonwoo says. 

—

It’s a perfect arrangement until it isn’t. A month of fucking around turns into two and then two turns into five, and Wonwoo thinks he’s got everything under control. He’s getting laid regularly, he’s letting off steam with a pretty boy, which is far more action he’s gotten than in his entire four years of undergrad, but he’s only human. 

It isn’t a perfect arrangement, because somewhere along the lines of eating breakfast in the morning while being hungover and spending time together in the four walls of the apartment bonding over university and postgrad Wonwoo realizes he might be a little bit infatuated. 

And then Wonwoo realizes it’s disastrous arrangement, because—

he has Mingyu on his stomach, face pressed into the mattress and ass up as he’s slamming into him, and when he hits Mingyu’s prostate Mingyu moans, “Ah, Minghao, right there,” and almost Wonwoo stills, thinking, jesus, what the hell have I gotten myself into.

Mingyu doesn’t notice his slip up, too lost in pleasure, so Wonwoo doesn’t stop. He makes Mingyu come untouched once and then one more time while he fingers him and Mingyu returns the favour by letting Wonwoo fuck his mouth. 

Wonwoo pulls Mingyu away from him and kisses his cheek as a thanks and Mingyu laughs it off, jumping into the bathroom to shower. The minute he locks the door Wonwoo slumps on the bed and contemplates his entire life decisions. He listens to the soft running of the water and smiles when he hears a muffled yelp of Mingyu dropping a bottle of something on himself. 

Mingyu emerges from the shower glowing and his hair a little damp. He sits next to Wonwoo on the bed even though this is usually the time they usually say their goodbyes and part ways for the week. Wonwoo looks up at him. “So,” he says, sitting up, “do you want to tell me who Minghao is or?”

Mingyu grows redder by the second and hides his face in his hands with a whine. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.” 

_No feelings_ echo in Wonwoo’s head. “It’s alright. It happens.”

Mingyu chews on his bottom lip, unsure. He turns to face Wonwoo, their faces close but also ultimately far. “He’s my best friend.” 

Christ, Wonwoo thinks. “Ouch,” Wonwoo says aloud. 

“Yeah,” Mingyu laughs wetly, and then he’s crying. Wonwoo’s eyes widen before he pulls Mingyu into an awkward hug.

“I’m so sorry,” Mingyu says, his voice muffled. His entire body rackets with sobs and Wonwoo feels something in his heart chip and ebb away. 

“It’s okay,” Wonwoo says, trying to sound soothing. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says. “I will be. It just sucks so much. I can’t get used to it.”

“For how long have you..?”

“Over a decade,” Mingyu replies, tears spilling out onto Wonwoo’s collarbone. He sounds broken and sad and all the times he’s mentioned about not dating around now makes perfect sense. 

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo runs his hand up and down Mingyu’s back. He feels his throat tighten. It’s impossible to imagine someone knowing a person as lovely as Mingyu for so long and not loving him back. “I really am. Do you want to, uh, stop all of this then?” 

“No,” Mingyu sniffs, shaking his head. The tip of his nose is cold from when it brushes over Wonwoo’s skin. “Please, no.”

“Okay,” Wonwoo says, chest and mind heavy. He kisses Mingyu’s forehead. “Okay.”

—

“Darling, you look like shit,” Jeonghan says to him after an entire day of grading midterm papers. Jeonghan sits across Wonwoo in the cafe close to campus. It’s Wednesday, and the cafe is fairly empty on Wednesdays. Wonwoo has a half-empty mug of coffee on the table besides his laptop, as well as an untouched croissant, which Jeonghan shamelessly takes and eats.

“I know.” Wonwoo says. He doesn’t say anything about Jeonghan eating his snack. 

“Rough night?” Jeonghan chews, delighted. 

“Somewhat,” Wonwoo replies.

“Want to tell me what happened?”

“My thesis deadline is coming up. And then Mingyu asked me to be his fake boyfriend.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow in surprise. “And you said?”

“I agreed,” Wonwoo sighs.

Jeonghan flicks him on the forehead. “Stupid boy. Why would you do that?”

Wonwoo frowns. “It’s nothing.” 

“Wonwoo darling, you said that when you started the friends with benefits relationship with him and now you're in love with him.” 

Wonwoo hisses, “That’s not true. And don’t be too loud.”

“There’s no one here, darling,” Jeonghan points out, but his frown soon softens with a sigh. “How are you going to do this?”

“Mingyu said it’s just for a while, so that Minghao would stop asking him to get into a relationship. We’ll break it off soon enough.”

“You can hypothetically fool Minghao,” Jeonghan says, “but not yourself or Mingyu, for that matter. If Mingyu finds out, what will you do?”

Wonwoo shrugs, “I don’t have anything to lose.”

“Do you really think so?” Jeonghan accuses.

“You’re right,” Wonwoo says. “I have everything to lose. But Mingyu is just so—wonderful, you know? He deserves to be loved.”

Jeonghan says, “But honey, you deserve that too.” Wonwoo smiles wryly, and Jeonghan continues, “You know what I’m going to say to you, however I also know you won’t listen to me.”

“You know me well,” Wonwoo says.

“I just wish the best for you, darling. You fucking around with Mingyu might have been fun at first but now that feelings have been brought into equation it isn’t fun at all. Don’t do this to yourself. I’m speaking from experience here.”

“Look at us, falling into the same traps,” Wonwoo smiles. He puts his chin on his hand. “Did you regret it?” The _it_ in question is left unsaid: regret sleeping around, regret falling in love, the list goes on and on. 

Jeonghan understands what Wonwoo means. “In retrospect, no, I think. But I can’t say I don’t wish there was a different universe where I didn’t go through all of the emotional turmoil.” 

“I don’t regret it either,” Wonwoo says. He is quiet for some time, then adds, “I don’t think I can agree with you here. If there are universes where I don’t love Mingyu, I don’t want them.” 

“Lovesick foolish boy,” Jeonghan flicks his forehead again. “Good luck with your thesis.”

Wonwoo gives Jeonghan another smile and Jeonghan leaves with a pat on his shoulder not long after, leaving Wonwoo alone with his thoughts. He spends approximately another hour typing away until he receives a text message from Mingyu asking about coming over tonight and Wonwoo can’t refuse even though he wants to.

—

“It worked,” Mingyu says, peeking through the door. He has a broad grin on his face and glasses perched on top of his nose which is rather unusual. 

“What did?” Wonwoo lets him inside. Mingyu takes off his coat and places it in the closet and toes off his shoes, putting them to the left of Wonwoo’s automatically, knowing where to put everything as if he’s living here full time and not occasionally at evenings and nights. He puts on slippers Wonwoo laid out for him that Wonwoo considers Mingyu’s and washes his hands with a liquid fruity soap he bought himself and the familiarity of everything makes Wonwoo feel a little sick. 

“Minghao fell for it. He said he was happy for me. Yay!”

Wonwoo leans on the bathroom wall and watches Mingyu dry his hands, “And how do you feel about that?”

Mingyu shrugs, “I guess, I guess I feel okay. I don't know. Should I be sad?”

“I don’t know, I mean, maybe Minghao wasn’t happy about you dating sometime, maybe there’s some hope for you. Some reciprocation.”

Mingyu suddenly frowns. “He doesn’t feel that way towards me. It’s useless.” 

“Well, maybe–”

Mingyu shakes his head, cutting Wonwoo off by putting a hand on his bicep. “Let's not, okay? Not tonight.” 

“Okay,” Wonwoo agrees. 

“Great,” Mingyu’s frown turns into a brilliant grin. “I’m cooking dinner tonight.” 

—

Wonwoo doesn’t know many things about Mingyu. The nature of their relationship only allows for superficial knowledge about Mingyu that Mingyu has told to him in passing before of after sex: he knows Mingyu is in his last year of studying Architecture with a huge project coming up and that he’s considering doing a Masters, he knows Mingyu has a younger sister and owns two dogs, he knows Mingyu’s birthday is in April, but not more than that. 

However, Wonwoo also knows many things about Mingyu without Mingyu mentioning them. Mingyu is like an open book with the way he walks and talks and _exists_ , open for anyone to read if they want to. It’s not hard to conclude what kind of person Mingyu is despite their limited interactions, and Wonwoo knows Mingyu is a warm and caring person. He knows Mingyu is sensitive and kind, and he knows Mingyu has a heart that’s too big for his own good.

Wonwoo wonders what kind of burden Mingyu must have been bearing for all these years, loving someone with his entire heart unconditionally and accepting that there won’t be anything in return. Wonwoo doesn’t think he can do that. He yearns for every touch Mingyu gives him, for every text message and every glance. Maybe he and Mingyu are the same. Maybe he and Mingyu are completely different, because despite everything Wonwoo hopes that one day Mingyu would really look at him for who he is. 

And it would be easier if he didn’t care, if Mingyu was just some other fuck buddy but he _isn’t_ , and it’s both Wonwoo’s downfall and blessing, being involved with someone like Mingyu in his life. 

Mingyu is smiling widely; he cooks him a wonderful dinner and kisses him sweetly, tasting of red wine and fruit. Wonwoo has almost forgotten that Mingyu is here in the first place so they could fuck and not just eat dinner and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that he swallows down for his own sanity. 

With clothes off and thrown aside, Mingyu falls onto the bed, dragging Wonwoo down him by the neck, so that Wonwoo hovers above him. Under his gaze, Mingyu bites on his bottom lip, cheeks red in the moonlight coming from the window. Wonwoo swoops down to kiss him on the nose, then once on each closed eyelid, then once on the lips. Mingyu’s grinning, his hands locked behind Wonwoo’s neck, bodies close together. Wonwoo feels hot, burning even. His kisses trail lower, down the Mingyu’s jaw and to column of Mingyu’s throat. He bites on his collarbone lightly, sucks on it, making Mingyu gasp lightly, just like he likes it. Mingyu’s back arches with every bite over his skin, voice breaking as Wonwoo goes lower and lower, trailing bites from his chest down to his stomach and stopping at his inner thighs. 

Wonwoo kisses Mingyu’s thighs and lubes up two fingers in one go and Mingyu throws his head back at the feeling of cold fingers pressing into him. They enter him without much restraint and it drives Wonwoo mad thinking about Mingyu preparing himself before he came over. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Mingyu’s thigh, “has anyone told you that?”

“No,” Mingyu pants, pupils blown wide, a layer of sweat all over his body, “just you.” He’s beautiful, his cock flushed red and leaking at the tip, begging to be touched, but Wonwoo won’t. He curls his fingers inside Mingyu and adds a third finger and Mingyu almost unravels before him. 

“Please,” Mingyu gasps, “touch me.”

Wonwoo stares at Mingyu’s puffy lips and red marks on his neck. Something twisted and possessive manifests in his brain and he asks, “Has Minghao seen you like this before? So obedient and pliant?” 

“No,” Mingyu shakes his head, hazy with pleasure. “Only you, just you. Please, let me come.”

“Good,” Wonwoo kisses him. The knots in his stomach untie one by one. And something twisted in his mind feels satisfied at the fact that he’s the one who has seen Mingyu like this and Minghao hasn’t. He’s the one who has _touched_ Mingyu like this and Minghao hasn’t. He feels so privileged, like this is the only game that he can one up Minghao in. Minghao doesn’t know that Mingyu is sensitive behind his ear, Minghao doesn’t know that Mingyu loves receiving kisses on his neck. It’s a confusing revelation, an exhilarating thought. 

He fucks his fingers in and out of Mingyu, brushing over his prostate every time. Mingyu is visibly shaking, trying to hold it together, and Wonwoo won’t deprive him of pleasure anymore. “You can come,” he says, pressing at his prostate, and Mingyu comes all over his stomach and chest with a groan. Wonwoo scoops some of his come with his fingers and licks them clean and Mingyu stares at him with wide eyes. 

“You’re insane,” Mingyu pants, “honest to God insane. What the fuck.”

Wonwoo laughs. “Tell me how do you want me.” 

“Just for this, I’d bend you over if I weren’t too fucked out of my mind right now.” 

“Next time will suffice,” Wonwoo smiles. 

“Let me eat you out instead,” Mingyu says. 

“Not too tired for that?” Wonwoo teases.

“Shut up and get on top of me,” Mingyu says. He makes grabby hands for Wonwoo and smashes their lips together in a short kiss before crawling under him and Wonwoo thinks, he would rather have a broken heart but a satisfied body than expreice no heartbreak but not know what it’s like to have Mingyu touch him. 

—

“Minghao is inviting us on a double date by the way,” Mingyu says one day. He’s raiding Wonwoo’s kitchen cabinets again in search of an ingredient Wonwoo probably doesn’t even have. 

“A double date? With whom?”

“Jun,” Mingyu sighs. 

“I know of a Jun,” Wonwoo says. “We had a class in our second year together. Sociology, was it.” 

“Yeah,” Mingyu scratches the back of his neck, “Jun is a great guy. I’ve talked to him once or twice. I see why Minghao likes him. Also, I think we need to go grocery shopping.”

Mingyu changes the topic of conversation almost like it’s nothing. “Don’t tell me this is going to be our first official date,” Wonwoo laments. 

“It’s domestic!” Mingyu reasons, “Besides, we’ve been having plenty of dinner dates at home. Do they not count?”

Wonwoo’s stomach churns. It’s all fake, anyway. “If Instagram doesn’t know about them then they’re not dates.” 

Mingyu huffs, “It’s not for Instagram.” 

Then for what? Wonwoo wants to say. “Well, if I don’t appear regularly in your stories Minghao might think we might be going through a rough patch or, cough cough, faking the whole ordeal.”

“I haven’t thought about that,” Mingyu says. He takes out his phone and says, “Smile for the camera!” but Wownoo doesn’t have enough time to react to look as good as he wants to.

“Delete that immediately,” Wonwoo says. He reaches for Mingyu’s phone but Mingyu leans away from him. 

“No way,” Mingyu grins, laughing. “Candid photographs are the best. I’m making that my lock screen, by the way. You should put me as your lock screen, too!” 

—

“Cute wallpaper,” Jeonghan snickers. 

“Don’t even say anything,” Wonwoo frowns. 

“I wasn’t going to, darling,” Jeonghan tuts. “So how are things going?” 

“As usual,” Wonwoo says. “Research is going alright, I suppose. My professor is helping me a great tonne with my work.”

“You know I’m not asking about your academic achievements.” 

“I do know,” Wonwoo says, “I just had hoped you’d let it slide today.”

“I haven't seen you in a month, of course I won't let it slide,” Jeonghan says. “When are you going to break things off?

“I don’t know,” Wonwoo replies. “I don’t think I can. I just, I love him, Jeonghan.” 

Jeonghan holds his gaze and then sighs. “On second thought,” he says, standing up and motioning for him to go outside for a smoke, “tell me about your thesis instead.” 

Wonwoo laughs, but it’s devoid of humour.

—

“Hurry up, hurry up,” Mingyu says, tugging at Wonwoo’s sleeve. “Minghao and Jun are already waiting in the restaurant for us. We’re late.”

“I am getting ready,” Wonwoo frowns, “we wouldn’t be late if you didn’t decide to pull on my hair earlier. Now it’s all messed up.”

Mingyu grins unapologetically. He combs his fingers through Wonwoo’s hair and parts it to the side. “You liked it. And you look great,” he says.

Wonwoo smiles wryly in return. Mingyu always means what he says, but not in the way Wonwoo wants him to.

“Do you really think they’re going to fall for it?” Wonwoo asks Mingyu on the way.

“Surely,” Mingyu says. “We spend a lot of time together, don’t we? How long has it been since we, uh…”

“Started fucking? Half a year, maybe.”

“See?” 

Wonwoo sighs, “We need an alibi.” 

“We don’t need to make anything up,” Mingyu says. “We can say how it is: met at a bar, started sleeping with each other, started liking each other, bla bla bla.”

He says it with so much conviction that it makes Wonwoo feels a little sick, because in an ideal scenario they would’ve naturally started liking each other, only in this scenario Wonwoo was the one who did but Mingyu didn’t. 

“Okay,” Wonwoo says, “that does sound believable.” 

“Exactly.” Mingyu laces their hands together and enters the restaurant with a smile. 

Minghao and Jun are sitting by a booth near a window. They’re both engrossed in a hushed conversation over drinks before Minghao notices Mingyu and waves at him. 

“Hey guys,” Mingyu says, “sorry I’m late.” 

Wonwoo and Jun exchange polite hugs, but with Minghao Wonwoo only shakes hands. No matter how many times Mingyu has said that Minghao is amiable, there’s something about him that has Wonwoo intimidated. Perhaps it’s the need for approval from a childhood best friend, perhaps it’s the want to not mess up in front of Mingyu. 

“Let’s order, shall we?” Jun asks. Wonwoo lets Mingyu order for him while he looks through the menu for drinks. He notices Minghao’s gaze on him, heavy and stern, like he’s looking through Wonwoo and judging how good he is or isn’t for Mingyu. Wonwoo is judging him right back.

It’s unfair that Minghao is attractive and elegant and very obviously fond of Mingyu. He teases Mingyu and pinches his cheek and asks about how they got together and Wonwoo lets Mingyu do all the talking, only placing a hand on his thigh while he catches up with Jun. 

After the meal Minghao says, pleased, “You guys look good together,” and Mingyu breaks out into a smile. 

He throws an arm around Wonwoo. “Don't we?” he says.

—

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out Mingyu is in love with Minghao. It’s as clear as day, as transparent as the sea. Mingyu wears his heart on his sleeve against his will and his face is nothing but an open book, and it’s obvious and even painful to the naked eye to see how in love he is. Except—Minghao has no idea, and it makes Wonwoo want to confront him and tell him to open his eyes and come to his senses, but he can't, not for Mingyu and not for himself. He sucks it up and squeezes Mingyu’s hand and Mingyu turns to him at the gesture, a kind smile on his face. 

It probably doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Wonwoo is in love with Mingyu, either. Minghao notices it right away, his sharp eyes softening with time as he notices Wownoo put more food on Mingyu’s plate so he'd eat more. Mingyu’s eyes are sparkling towards him, and it feels so genuine sometimes, and more often than not Wonwoo can’t tell whether Mingyu is being genuine or if he’s just putting up a show. 

Wonwoo comes home, alone, and thinks about how Mingyu looked at Minghao today with sunshine in his eyes and how he’s never looked at Wonwoo even remotely close to that and probably never will. He thinks about Mingyu’s longing touches and glances towards Minghao and his love pouring out of him into nothing and buries his face in his hands. He waits for the aching in his chest to stop but it never does. 

—

Wonwoo doesn't know for how much longer he can keep up with all of this. He longs for Mingyu like a flower longs for the sun, and even if the sun burns him he would never turn away from it. Mingyu comes over, and Wonwoo opens the door for him every time. It’s not even just for strictly fucking most of the time: Mingyu comes by when he wants Wonwoo to try out his new recipe or when he wants Wonwoo’s opinion on his housing project and Wonwoo is left baffled by the change in their dynamics because logically they must lead to something _more_ than what they have but they don’t. 

Like now: Mingyu is sitting on the carpet of Wonwoo’s living room in sweatpants and a t-shirt, wearing thick glasses instead of contact lenses and a pink headband that is actually his sister’s to get his bangs away from his eyes. His old laptop is perched on the coffee table and he’s been clicking away on Revit for the past several hours without a break. 

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo says, sitting almost beside him on the sofa, “you’ve got to rest.” 

“But the project,” Mingyu whines. “I have to finish it before next week.”

“That’s plenty of time,” Wonwoo presses, putting a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder, “it’s getting late, you need to rest a little. Take a nap, I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says. He sits on the couch and lays his head in Wonwoo’s lap. Wonwoo lets out a sound in surprise but doesn’t move Mingyu off himself. 

“Give me a kiss,” Mingyu demands. Wonwoo raises a brow but does as told. He leans down to peck him on the cheek but Mingyu shakes his head. “No, on the lips.”

Why? Is at the tip of his tongue. There’s technically no need for such affections since they aren’t in public, but Wonwoo dutifully, longfully, kisses him. Mingyu beams and closes his eyes. “Play with my hair,” he then says quietly, and Wonwoo starts massaging Mingyu’s scalp until he starts hearing soft snores. Wonwoo’s legs start falling asleep after some time but he doesn’t dare move. He finishes reading a book he was assigned by his professor and figures he might doze off himself.

He wakes up with a tick in his neck and soreness in his muscles and Mingyu gone. But there’s a blanket thrown over him and and a note from Mingyu saying he had to go help Minghao with his art portfolio and suddenly he doesn’t know how to feel.

—

The project ends up getting finished with time to spare. Mingyu invites him to his project presentation and Wonwoo goes as his plus one, as his boyfriend. He buys Mingyu a bouquet of flowers out of courtesy and dresses up with a tie and a blazer even though there’s no strict dress code. Mingyu beams at him and gives him a wave when he finds him in the audience. 

They don’t have an opportunity to talk until the after party. When Mingyu spots Wonwoo, he pins him against the wall and kisses him, hard and demanding. Wonwoo doesn’t hesitate to react: he parts his lips and lets Mingyu slip his tongue inside, although at the back of his mind he wonders what could have prompted such a reaction for Mingyu to be so bold. Wonwoo snakes a hand behind Mingyu’s waist to pull his closer, and it feels so natural to have Mingyu’s hand in his hair, it feels so real to feel Mingyu push him harder into the wall as if Wonwoo is slipping through his fingers if Mingyu didn’t hold tight onto him, it feels so good to have Mingyu’s lips glide against his. But then Wonwoo opens his eyes and notices Minghao on the other end of the room, laughing at something Jun is saying next to him, and he snaps out of it. 

He kisses back, but something deep and heavy weighs in his chest, like an anchor, a reminder. This is why Mingyu is so into kissing him, this is why it feels so real, because it isn’t at all. Mingyu’s a good actor, Wonwoo thinks, he got almost fooled.

Wonwoo taps Mingyu’s cheek to get Mingyu off him. Mingyu looks confused, eyes glassy and lips red and parted, his breaths coming out heavily. Wonwoo wipes the string is saliva away from Mingyu’s bottom lip and says, “You don’t have to keep kissing me, Minghao’s already gone.”

Mingyu follows the direction of Wonwoo’s fingers with his eyes and then blinks, “What?”

“I said,” Wonwoo whispers, “you can stop now. Minghao left through the door a minute ago.”

Mingyu blinks again and looks around the room. “He was here? I didn’t know.” 

Wonwoo feels distraught. “I don’t understand,” he states, “then why’d you kiss me like that?”

“I, uh,” Mingyu has the decency to blush, “you look good today. I’ve been meaning to the entire night.” 

It leaves Wonwoo’s mind asking questions he knows he won’t receive answers to. Sometimes Mingyu says and does things that make Wonwoo think that Mingyu might feel _something_ towards him. “Oh,” he says, not knowing how else to react. He fixes Mingyu’s collar with his fingers, adjusts his tie. “You were good out there. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you for coming,” Mingyu melts into a smile, “and thank you for the flowers.” He leans in slightly, then remembers Wonwoo’s reaction and pulls away, questioning. “Can’t I—can’t I kiss you?”

“You can,” Wownoo says.

Mingyu pulls Wonwoo into a chaste kiss. “Thank you,” he sighs, and something terrible forms in Wonwoo’s stomach — hope.

They don’t make it to main event of the after party because Mingyu hails a cab to Wonwoo’s place and then he drops down on his knees in the bedroom and takes Wonwoo’s cock in his mouth and Wonwoo has to fist his hand in Mingyu’s hair to slow him down but Mingyu only likes it.

Mingyu bobs his head up and down and there’s spit dribbling down his chin and Wonwoo feels like he’s going to pass out at any given moment at the sight of it. He comes down Mingyu’s throat and Mingyu swallows all of him and Wonwoo pulls him into a kiss and pushes him down onto the bed and whispers all kinds of words into Mingyu’s ears because tonight is about _him_ , because he’s worked so hard for his project and he deserves to be rewarded.

He fucks Mingyu into the mattress and then fucks him again and Mingyu leaves red marks all over his back with his blunt fingernails that are painful as fuck but feel incredible at the same time. Wonwoo’s the limbo between feeling alive and feeling crushed by how much he feels for the boy kissing him but it’s something he should get used to. 

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu says in between kissing. His breath is hot and ragged and his voice is hoarse, “thank you.” 

And Wonwoo for the life of him can’t figure out why Mingyu would be thanking him again and even worse than that, he can’t suppress the feeling of hope in him much longer.

—

“Minghao told me he’s going to ask Jun out,” Mingyu says one day.

Wonwoo says, “And how do you feel about it?”

“I support him, of course I do,” Mingyu replies.

“You know what I mean,” Wonwoo says. “How do you really feel?”

Mingyu chews on his bottom lip. “I’m not sure. It’s complicated, you know? On one hand I want him to be in a relationship and I want to move on myself, but— he’s my soulmate,” Mingyu says. “I think I’ll always love him and I’ll always be in love with him in some way or another.”

And Wonwoo has to learn how to deal with it, with the fact that Mingyu won’t ever belong to him entirely, that Mingyu will forever love Minghao and other people with everything he has because he’s wonderful like that, even if it’s heartbreaking. 

What about me, he wants to say, who am I to you? What do I mean to you? How do you love me? 

“There are many types of soulmates,” Wonwoo says instead, “there are people who will love you with their entire hearts if you let them.”

Mingyu looks at him, “You’re right,” he says, and then kisses him, a hand on Wonwoo’s cheek. “You’re so right.”

—

Wonwoo thinks things are going upwards until they’re suddenly going downhill. Some days later, there’s a knock at his door. It’s Mingyu, ironically enough, a little drunk and a little upset. Wonwoo catches him before Mingyu can trip over the threshold by the waist. 

“Mingyu,” he says, “What’s up with you?” Mingyu’s face is damp and so are his eyes. He smells like beer and beer and tears are never a good combination.

Mingyu hiccups. “Minghao, he—he and Jun started going out. He just told me,” he says. “I knew it was coming, I knew it would happen, but _God_.” Wonwoo takes Mingyu’s coat off for him, helps him with his shoes. He leads Mingyu to the bedroom. “He sounded so—happy, so overjoyed. I’ve never seen him glow this much.”

Mingyu sniffs and blinks tears away. “I thought I would be happy for him. I mean, I thought I was getting over him, but it hurts,” he says, quiet and sad and broken, “it hurts so much.”

“There, there,” Wonwoo says, attempting to comfort Mingyu, comfort himself, because he feels the exact same way.

“And I hate myself for feeling like this, I hate myself so much for that.”

“Stop that,” Wonwoo frowns, taking Mingyu’s hands in his. They’re cold. Freezing, even. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault.”

Wonwoo squeezes Mingyu’s hands. He wants to hate Minghao. He does hate Minghao, in the same way he hates what Minghao is doing to Mingyu, even if it’s indirect. He hates to see Mingyu hurt and he hates to see Mingyu ache. If love is sharing one’s pain as your own, then Wonwoo has long been doing that all along. 

And Wonwoo hates himself, because Mingyu needs him right now, and Mingyu might not need him later but Wonwoo will. 

Mingyu is unyielding. “I love him,” he says sombrely. The tears that are clinging to his eyelashes fall like morning dew. He looks small and tired like this, but nonetheless beautiful. “I’ve loved him for so long.”

Something clogging his throat, Wonwoo reaches to wipe at Mingyu’s tears. There’s not much he can say, there’s not much he can do. He doesn’t know _what_ to say to tell Mingyu it’s going to be alright, because it might not be alright at all, it isn’t alright at all, so all he can do is reach down to cup his cheek and kiss his temple and hope that it’s enough. He pulls away to see Mingyu staring at him with his wide glassy eyes. Mingyu’s lips part mid breath, and then suddenly Wonwoo feels them against his own. 

It’s a simple touch, but it’s also so complicated. Mingyu’s hands disentangle from his own and clutch at his shirt. “Please,” he says, “please, just–” like he doesn’t even know what he’s asking for. To forget, to feel touched, to feel loved. Well, whatever he’s asking for, Wonwoo will give it to him. 

Wonwoo circles his hand around Mingyu’s waist, pulling Mingyu into his lap. Mingyu cups his cheeks and kisses him hard and desperate. Wonwoo runs his tongue over Mingyu’s lip, bites on it lightly. Mingyu lets out a groan, arching into Wonwoo like a wave. 

“Tell me what you want,” Wonwoo whispers against Mingyu’s neck. 

Mingyu’s breath hitches when Wonwoo plants a kiss there, then a bite. “I want to feel good,” he says, “I just want—you.”

Wonwoo hums. “Of course. I’ll make you feel good. I’ll take care of you.”

Mingyu preens, letting himself smile. It’s melancholic, but it isn’t entirely sad. 

“I’ve got you,” Wonwoo says. “I’m your boyfriend, aren’t I?”

Mingyu laughs at that, “Yes, yes, of course.” He kisses Wonwoo urgently but sweetly at the same time. He licks into Wonwoo’s mouth, hands roaming all over Wonwoo’s torso, and Wonwoo hates how much Mingyu’s body is into it but his heart isn’t. 

He chooses not to dwell on that. He pushes Mingyu down on the bed, frees him of his clothes. Mingyu is pliant underneath him, eager for Wonwoo’s every touch, every stroke and caress. He’s louder today than he usually is, not holding back on the little sounds that spill out of his throat. He clutches onto Wonwoo when Wonwoo preps him, squeezes his eyes shut when Wonwoo works a hand over his slick cock to ease him, and begs Wonwoo to kiss him when Wonwoo enters him. Whatever he can give Wonwoo, Wonwoo will take it, too.

It’s a little funny, Wonwoo thinks, how it’s been months and he knows that Mingyu is sensitive behind his ear, likes to be bitten there, but doesn’t know what Mingyu’s favourite colour is. How he knows what Mingyu looks like when he’s overwhelmed with pleasure, eyes closed shut and mouth slightly parted, but doesn’t know what Mingyu’s favourite hobby is. They’re boyfriends, for god’s sake. Fake ones, even though the line between the legitimacy of their relationship is long blurry by now.

Mingyu doesn’t last long. After a particularly sharp thrust he comes with a low groan. He cages Wonwoo with his thighs and presses him closer, rolling his hips, still coming down from his high. His skin is covered in a layer of sweat and his hair sticks to his face and it leaves Wonwoo mesmerized. 

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu moans, breathy, “ah,” and it’s all it takes for Wonwoo’s hips to stutter and to come as well. He leans down to kiss Mingyu, perhaps too gently to be acceptable, and then he tastes salt.

The bitterness of more tears falling down Mingyu’s cheeks make Wonwoo feel terrible. 

“What’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks, cupping his face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Mingyu rasps, shaking his head. “Not at all.”

“What is it? Talk to me?”

“It’s just too much,” Mingyu says. “In a good way. In a very good way. I got overwhelmed.”

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo says. His hand doesn’t leave Mingyu’s face. He runs his thumb over the apple of his cheek. “Let me get a towel and some water for you, okay?”

He returns to Mingyu rolled over on his side. He helps Mingyu clean up and notices that Mingyu is trembling. “This is what I mean,” Mingyu whispers.

“What do you mean?”

“This—” Mingyu huffs, but it’s resigned more than anything. He gestures at Wonwoo, at himself, then looks away completely. “You know,” he sniffs, “sometimes you make me feel so loved, I like to pretend we’re actually dating and it isn’t all fake.”

It isn’t fake, Wonwoo wants to scream. It’s never been fake. Instead, he says, “I’m not the one you love.” He cards his fingers through Mingyu’s hair softly. 

Mingyu looks at him with a frown, but it lasts only for a second. There’s something in his gaze Wonwoo can’t decipher, something he can’t recognize at all. “I could. I want to.”

Wonwoo holds in his breath. He stares at Mingyu for so long, Mingyu closes his eyes and rests his head on the pillow, as if he was never expecting a reaction nor a reply. Wonwoo retracts his hand. It’s probably the alcohol talking. “You don’t mean that. You’re tired, Mingyu,” he says quietly. Something breaks in his heart even further irreversibly. “You should rest. Stay the night.”

But Mingyu’s already asleep. Wonwoo steps out to the balcony and lights a cigarette and watches the smoke fade into the night skyline, hoping for Mingyu to not remember everything he had said today. 

—

Mingyu remembers. He wakes Wonwoo with a shake of his shoulder. Wonwoo blinks at the light hitting his face, at Mingyu’s face too close to his. 

“Why didn't you sleep on the bed with me?” Mingyu accuses. 

“Didn’t want to disturb you,” Wonwoo replies, sleep leaving him instantly. “Did you sleep well?”

“My head still hurts,” Mingyu whines, then flops down right on top of Wonwoo on the couch, his head on Wonwoo’s heartbeat, and grows quiet. “How bad was I yesterday? Did I say anything silly?”

“Not at all,” Wonwoo says, petting Mingyu’s hair. 

“You’re lying,” Mingyu lifts his torso and straddles Wonwoo’s waist, putting his hands on each side of Wonwoo’s face. Wonwoo has no choice but to look up at Mingyu, trapped under him. Mingyu’s hair is tousled and his voice is raspy from sleep and he has dried tear tracks on his cheeks and he’s wearing Wonwoo’s old oversized shirt and boxers and he’s gorgeous. “Why would you lie?”

“It would only complicate things,” Wonwoo says. He cups Mingyu’s cheeks, “Wouldn’t it?” 

“You say one thing but do the opposite,” Mingyu says. His voice is small but he still accepts Wonwoo’s affections like he wouldn’t survive without it. “You contradict yourself every time you’re with me.” 

I could say the same about you, Wonwoo wants to say. He runs his thumbs over Mingyu’s cheeks and sighs, “You’ve said some very honest and raw things yesterday.”

“I know.”

“I really wish you didn’t,” Wonwoo says. 

A heavy silence looms over them. Mingyu tears his gaze away and stands up, “Forget it.” The collar of his shirt rides down and Wonwoo wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into Mingyu’s collarbone but he only watches Mingyu go. 

Mingyu doesn’t say anything on his way out and Wonwoo doesn’t either. He watches Mingyu get out of the door still wearing his shirt and smelling like his shampoo and then he wipes his tears with the back of his hands because the confusion and hurt are eating at him and he finds it difficult to breathe. He wants to both beg for Mingyu to come back and to never see him again and he doesn’t know which option is worse. 

—

It’s two weeks of painful radio silence before Mingyu is at his door again. 

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu hiccups, throwing himself at Wonwoo. “Forgive me.”

I should be the one apologizing, Wonwoo thinks. He wants to push Mingyu away, he wants to pull Mingyu impossibly close. “I missed you,” he says.

“Me too, God, me too,” Mingyu circles his arms around Wonwoo. “I don’t know why, but I can't stand to be apart from you.”

Mingyu doesn’t mean that either, Wonwoo wants to think, but he _knows_ Mingyu means it and it drives him into a wall. Mingyu is open and honest and he doesn’t lie about what he feels and that’s the most heartbreaking thing about him. 

Wonwoo tips his chin up to kiss him. Mingyu lips are soft and Wonwoo now realizes how much he’s aches to have them on his. Mingyu cups his cheeks and kisses him hard and it has hurt, and it hurts, and it will hurt, and Wownoo knows he needs to put a stop to this before he crumbles.

And it ends like this: Wonwoo putting his hand on Mingyu’s chest, pulling away from him, saying, “I have decided on a wish. The one you owe me.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, blinking. His hands that are circled around Wonwoo’s waist loosen, “What is it?”

“I want for us to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“This,” Wonwoo says. “Us.” 

It takes a second for Mingyu to catch on. His eyes widen. “Going out?”

Wonwoo shakes his head, “No, overall. Just… Stop. Pretending to date, sleeping together when you’re up for it. I’m so tired, Mingyu. I don't want to keep going like this.”

“Oh…” Mingyu says. He drops his hands and steps back. “So you want to… stop everything?” 

“Essentially, yes.” 

Mingyu’s voice is a whisper. He’s frowning. “Even being friends?” 

“Could you even call us friends?” Wonwoo asks. “We’re anything but friends, Mingyu.” Mingyu’s frown deepens slowly as the words sink in. Wonwoo tries to pretend that he doesn’t see the hurt behind Mingyu’s eyes. “I’m sorry, but I think it would be best if we didn’t talk anymore.”

Mingyu looks at him intensely, bottom lip caught between his teeth, eyes becoming glassy, “But why? I don’t understand. You told me you missed me, _I_ missed you, I thought we—”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo puts a hand on Mingyu’s cheek, “you’re not the only one who’s in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.”

He watches realization dawn on Mingyu, and then tears spill from his eyes. “Wonwoo—” 

Wonwoo says, “So please, let’s just stop all of this.” 

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu clutches at him, “why didn’t you,” he starts rambling, “Wonwoo, I’m,” he hiccups, “Wonwoo, I think I—”

“Stop,” Wonwoo says. “Don’t say anything more.” He pulls Mingyu off him and wipes Mingyu’s tears with his sleeve. Mingyu watches him with his wide eyes, a million things running through them. He looks hurt and confused and sad and Wonwoo doesn’t wish to read more into them because he doesn’t wish to find pity. 

Mingyu blinks, and his eyes become unreadable. He lets go of Wonwoo and straightens his posture and Wonwoo is reminded that Mingyu is the taller one out of the two of them. He looks forlorn and as if he’s holding himself back from saying something and Wonwoo thinks he might’ve made a grave mistake but there’s no turning back now. 

Mingyu reaches out to Wonwoo and then retracts his hand, shaking his head, the will to fight back depleting with every second. “Okay,” he says. 

—

Mingyu doesn’t text him nor does he call, or maybe he does; Wonwoo doesn’t know because he turns off his phone and leaves it on the bedside table, forgotten. But he’s okay. He focuses on grad school and finishes his draft and takes on more assignments to grade and he’s not okay at all but it’s better than thinking about Mingyu, or the lack of him.

Jeonghan was right, he had everything to lose, and lose everything he did. A month goes by like that, and Wonwoo doesn’t feel like he’s existing anymore. It’s a weird feeling: he's doing so much for his diploma but at the same time he feels like he’s doing nothing at all. Each day is a day where he is reminded of how empty his apartment is without a second person and each night is a night where he falls asleep to his bed empty and no arm curled around him. 

Sometimes when he’s at his lowest he wonders whether Mingyu thinks of him. He hopes he doesn’t. He hopes he’ll stop thinking of Mingyu, too. These useless thoughts don’t help him sleep but he still thinks and thinks until the sky starts lightening up and he has to get himself out of bed. 

A month goes by, and Wonwoo still doesn’t know if he’s made the right decision. If breaking things off was the right thing to do, why does his heart hurt this much? It’s a different kind of pain, it’s a different kind of heartache, and it keeps thumping through his blood and all over his body and doesn’t stop the numbing no matter what Wonwoo does. 

There are traces of Mingyu scattered all around the apartment: his spare toothbrush and shampoo he’d gotten not long after he started staying over for the night, his clothes and shoes and knives and pans from his own house, his magnets on the fridge he bought for Wonwoo from a trip and the dent in the mattress on the left side of Wownoo’s bed. His scales and graphite pencils on the living room coffee table, his spare laptop charger under Wonwoo’s desk, his hairbrush and scrunchies from his sister on Wonwoo’s bedside table, his lip balm, his vinyl records, his earbuds, his— It almost feels like he’s there with Wonwoo but he _isn’t_ and it’s unbearable. 

In passing Jeonghan once told him depression and love are the same, and Wonwoo never understood him up until now. 

—

Some days later his doorbell rings, and Wonwoo thinks the delivery man is early, but it’s not him that Wonwoo sees in the peephole, but Minghao. Surprised and a little apprehensive, Wonwoo opens the door.

“Um. Hi, Minghao. How can I help you?”

Minghao doesn’t smile. “I’m going to drop all formalities and get to the point. Why did you break up with Mingyu?”

Wonwoo blinks. “I didn’t break up with him, technically. We never dated in the first place.”

Minghao’s lips straighten. “That’s not what Mingyu told me. He’s miserable, Wonwoo, I don’t know what you did to him but you fucked up bad.”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrow at that, “Excuse me? He was the one who asked me to be his pretend boyfriend for half a year.” 

Minghao is about to retaliate, but gets interrupted by the delivery man. Wonwoo thanks him and says, “Would you like to come inside? I got chicken.” 

Minghao looks uncomfortable but agrees nonetheless. Wonwoo takes out a spare plate and chopsticks but Minghao politely declines. “No, thank you. I’ll be quick.”

“Alright,” Wonwoo says. He puts everything back and puts on the kettle and waits for Minghao to speak.

Minghao runs a hand through his hair. This might be the first time they’ve actually talked face to face and alone. Wonwoo properly looks at Minghao, and sees a reflection of himself: someone who loves secretly but fiercely, someone who yearns to be loved back. Minghao and he are two sides of the same coin, now that Wonwoo thinks about it, two mirrors, personalities and interests alike. 

Minghao is aware of that, so maybe that’s why he speaks to Wonwoo like to an old acquaintance. “We’re similar, aren’t we?” he says. “I’d like to think we are, and had we met and gotten to know each other under different circumstances I think we would’ve gotten along rather well, that’s why I understand why you decided to shut Mingyu out. However, as Mingyu’s best friend, I can’t help but be mad on his behalf.”

“There’s not much room for conversation here,” Wonwoo replies. 

Minghao sits down on the kitchen island stool and sighs, exhausted, “You know, I was in love with him once. And I know he was in love with me too.”

Wonwoo’s axis feels like it's tilting. “But he still is,” he says. 

Minghao shakes his head. “No. He’s got you. You’re the one he's in love with. Trust me on that.” 

“Minghao, I don’t think you understand,” Wonwoo says, exasperated. “He’s been in love with _you_ since he was around ten and you’re saying you knew how he felt? That’s fucked up.” 

Minghao points a finger at Wonwoo’s chest. It’s harsh and it should hurt but it doesn’t because Wonwoo is used to pain. “I don’t think _you_ understand. Mingyu knew how _I_ felt too. We both did and we both knew it would go nowhere. Or maybe we were just too scared to ruin the friendship we had. You know, the time Mingyu told me he started sleeping with you I thought, oh, okay, and decided it was time for me to move on because I knew he’d fall in love with you sooner or later.”

Christ, Wonwoo thinks. That was over a year ago. He feels a headache starting to form. “What are you even saying?”

“Some things just don’t get the chance to work out and it’s okay,” Minghao says. “I was hurt and upset for days because I realized my chance was lost and honestly? I wanted to hate you because I felt like you were taking Mingyu away from me little by little but that was beyond my control.”

Wonwoo admits, “I wanted to hate you, too.” 

“See? We’re similar,” Minghao says. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m completely head over heels for Jun and I love him with my whole heart, but Mingyu is really special to me. To the both of us.”

And that’s the thing—ever since Wonwoo woke up to Mingyu making him breakfast after a one night stand he knew that Mingyu was the most special person he’s ever encountered. “I know that,” Wonwoo says.

“When he loves, he loves with his entire being. The day you broke up with him he came to me in tears, devastated about you saying you don’t want to speak to him anymore. He was so hurt, Wonwoo. He told me he loved you so much he felt like he was suffocating without you.” 

There’s a crack somewhere in Wonwoo, be it a flicker of hope cracking out of his heart or something else, he doesn’t know. “I really don’t understand,” Wonwoo says, “he’s told me so many times how he’s been in love with you all this time.” 

“He doesn’t feel that way towards me anymore and he hasn’t in a long time now, Wonwoo. He spends all his time with you. He cooks for you. He does everything for you. He comes to you when he’s sad and he turns to you when he’s happy. He loves you, Wonwoo. He chose you. Don’t you get it?”

It takes a minute for Wonwoo for the words to sink in, to find out that the stars have been aligned for Mingyu and Minghao the entire time but yet neither of them did anything about it; that they missed their chance and the stars shifted and aligned once again for them but not with each other but with other people this time. Like in the movies: knowing, loving, someone at the wrong place at the wrong time. Something kind of like star crossed lovers, only the stars were in their favour. Or something like: two people, tied by a red string of fate but discarding it in favour of others.

And it’s overwhelming to know that Minghao was beside him and yet Mingyu broke off his red string of fate and tied the broken thread around Wonwoo’s finger instead.

Perhaps Wonwoo is Mingyu’s makeshift soulmate. A fallen piece from another star that glows differently but nonetheless brightly. Perhaps that’s what they are—not soulmates by any means, but they’re _something,_ something devastating and beautiful.

Wonwoo slumps beside Minghao, distraught. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” Minghao quirks an eyebrow, his head resting on his propped up chin. “You get the hell out of here and go to Mingyu’s and make up and get together for real. What else is there to do?” 

“But—”

Minghao rolls his eyes, “Mingyu’s free right now and he’s been waiting for you to come to him for ages. You might want to charge your phone.” He opens Wonwoo’s takeout boxes and starts eating. 

Wonwoo huffs. “You said you weren’t hungry.”

“I never said that. Count this as compensation.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“We’re going to be the best of friends,” Minghao grins, “and we can’t let the chicken go to waste now, can we.”

“I’ll be ready in ten so eat fast.”

“Mingyu loves tulips!” Minghao calls his way. 

—

Wonwoo knocks on Mingyu’s door several times before Mingyu opens it.

“Hey,” Wonwoo says.

“Wonwoo…” Mingyu says, eyes wide. “What are you doing here?” He looks a little tired with eyebags under his eyes and messy hair and it’s been so long since Wonwoo has seen him and he’s missed him so much. 

“I got these flowers for you.”

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu repeats, shoulders hunching. “What are you doing here?”

Wonwoo sighs, looking down at the threshold between them. It’s almost like a barrier. It possibly is. “Can I come inside?” 

“Okay,” Mingyu says, unsure. 

Wonwoo hasn’t been to Mingyu’s apartment many times, because everything they do, they do in the four walls of Wonwoo’s instead. He looks at Mingyu’s tidy and clean living room and sees no single trace of him in it at all and thinks of his own living room and how Mingyu is filled with it to the brim. Almost like outside the familiarity of Wonwoo’s apartment, they—their relationship—don’t exist. Perhaps they don’t.

Perhaps they can. “I would like to apologize for everything,” he starts. He sits next to Mingyu and folds his hands in his lap, eyes downcast as he speaks, “For ending things so abruptly and for ghosting you and not reaching out to you and telling you I don’t want to speak to you anymore. The last part is not true; I want to speak to you all the time, I want to be with you all the time, that’s why I broke things off in the first place. Although we weren’t actually dating, I’d like to think that we were.

“Our relationship was real to me because what I feel for you is very much real, and I’m sorry for falling in love with you when we agreed on no feelings attached. I got attached not long after. I think I got attached to you from the eggs and toast or even before that, from the very first time you kissed me in the club. Loving you was both the best and worst feeling I’ve ever known. Still know. It hurt to be with you, so I asked for us to stop, and it hurt to be apart from you, so now I’m here in front of you, not even knowing what I’m asking for. I guess I’m asking for your forgiveness and to give me a chance. Maybe I’m not the right person for you—we’re too different, too opposite from each other, but I could be. I want to be. 

“And there’s a small, ugly, desperate part of me that hopes you can love me back, and it doesn't matter if it’s in the way I love you or not. I’ll take anything you give me. Just give me a chance. I guess that’s it,” Wonwoo finishes. “Say something?” 

And then he looks up, and sees that Mingyu is crying. “You idiot,” Mingyu says. “You fucking idiot.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Shut up,” Mingyu says. “Come here.” He extends his arms and Wonwoo falls into them like he’s come home. “You’re an idiot,” he starts. “How could you possibly think I don’t love you back?”

“Minghao,” Wonwoo says simply. 

Mingyu says with a sigh, “He’s my best friend. He was there for me for all of my school graduations and he was the first person I came out to and he was my first ever friend.” He looks melancholic at the memories but then something in his gaze sharpers and softens all at once. “But you— you were there for my projects and all the times I needed a shoulder to lean on and you agreed to be my fake boyfriend for months and you did it all unconditionally and genuinely and wholeheartedly and fuck, how can you say you’re not the right person for me when you are? You’re perfect for me.”

“Mingyu—”

“No, let me finish this time,” Mingyu interrupts. “How can you possibly think I don't love you back when you’re all I think about before I sleep and you’re all I want when I wake up. I think of you whenever I see cats on the streets or come across literature quotes on the internet; I think of you when I see rainy skies because you love them so much; I think of you all the time. You’re the person I want to share my everything with and you’re the one I envision my life after I graduate and get a job with. I—I love you, Wonwoo. I don't know how else to convey it to you so you could believe me. Please believe me when I say you’re special to me; you’re probably the most special person I’ve ever known.”

Wonwoo forces back the stinging in his eyes. “Mingyu, you have no idea what you do to me.” 

Mingyu sighs and presses a small kiss to Wonwoo’s neck. “I love you,” he murmurs. He hugs him tight like he’s afraid Wonwoo would either let go or disappear. Still, it’s a grounding, warm, loving hug. “I love you so much.” 

Wonwoo takes Mingyu’s hand in his and when he looks down at where they’re connected he sees the pieced together string of fate on his and Mingyu’s pinkies. 

“It’s okay if you love Minghao,” Wonwoo says. “I don’t mind.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “It’s different. You’re different.”

“I mean it,” Wownoo says, squeezing their hands. “It’s okay if you’re still in love with him. I am content with any kind of love you’d give me.” 

Mingyu starts tearing up again. “Are you hearing yourself. You’re so perfect.” He hiccups, “I don’t deserve you.” 

It’s infuriating, because Mingyu deserves the world and so much more and Wonwoo is willing to give it to him if Mingyu would simply ask. “You deserve everything,” he says, “allow me to give you everything I can.” 

He cups Mingyu’s face in a silent question. Mingyu nods, and Wonwoo leans in, pressing their lips together. Mingyu sighs and impatiently straddles Wonwoo’s lap to kiss him properly. 

“So we’re going to do this then,” Wonwoo says when Mingyu pulls away. “Good.” He puts a hand behind Mingyu’s neck and tugs at his hair and Mingyu opens his mouth so Wonwoo can lick into it. Wonwoo bites on Mingyu’s bottom lip and Mingyu mewls and it might be Wonwoo’s favourite sound in the world. 

“I missed you,” Wonwoo murmurs. “I missed you so much.” 

“I was so worried for you,” Mingyu says, “you wouldn’t answer my calls or texts and your phone was turned off for weeks and I never understood how painful it was to lose someone after you realize you love them.”

Wonwoo says, “I’m sorry.” He kisses Mingyu under his jaw, “I’m here now.”

“You’re here,” Mingyu runs his hands over Wonwoo’s face with his fingers, as if committing the touch to memory, “you’re here.” He looks at Wonwoo in a way that he doesn’t look at anyone else. “Don’t go anymore.”

Wonwoo kisses him and feels Mingyu’s hands beginning to roam down his face and over his shoulders and down to his arms. His touch is almost desperate, it’s wanting, and Wonwoo figures it’s time for them to take things to bed.

He hoists Mingyu up with his hands under Mingyu’s thighs and Mingyu wraps his hands around Wonwoo’s neck in surprise. He protests, “Stop! I’m heavy!” but Wonwoo shushes him.

“I’ve been working out. It’s nothing.” He carries Mingyu to the bedroom and drops him on the bed like he weighs nothing and Mingyu looks flushed from his neck up to his ears.

“Don’t tell me that turns you on,” Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. Mingyu blushes and averts his gaze. Wonwoo tips Mingyu chin up so Mingyu would look at him. “Tell me, does it?”

“Shut up,” Mingyu whines, and fists a hand in Wonwoo’s shirt to pull him down until their bodies are pressed flush together, legs tangling, and Wonwoo can feel how hard Mingyu is against his thigh.

Wonwoo can’t help but quirk his lips up as he presses a kiss to Mingyu’s throat. He unzips Mingyu’s hoodie and takes off his sweatpants in quick motions. Mingyu is panting and hard and they’ve barely done anything. 

“Take this off,” Mingyu begs, tugging at Wonwoo’s shirt. “It’s in the way.”

“Take it off for me then.”

Mingyu huffs but does as told, warm hands touching Wonwoo’s stomach from when he loops them under his shirt and setting him ablaze as he pulls it off. He chews on his bottom lip in concentration when he works with Wonwoo’s jeans and heat pools in Wonwoo’s stomach, anticipating. Mingyu then sits up to fold their clothes at the edge of the bed properly, and that’s what does it for Wonwoo.

He waits until Mingyu is done and ushers for him to come closer. Mingyu leans into him, and Wonwoo says, “You’re incredible, I hope you know that.” 

He brushes his thumb over Mingyu’s bottom lip, then pushes two fingers inside. Mingyu’s eyes widen in surprise but he opens his mouth to suck on them eagerly, tongue curling around his fingers. His eyes are glassy from when Wonwoo presses them over his tongue. “You’re lovely,” Wonwoo says. “You’re so good.”

Mingyu whines, his eyes fluttering shut at the praise. Wonwoo continues, watching Mingyu’s cheeks and the tips of his ears redden even further, “So wonderful for me. You’re my good boy.” He takes out his fingers from Mingyu’s mouth, watching Mingyu pant heavily. 

He pushes Mingyu down and settles between his legs. Mingyu’s gaze is hazy but determined at the same time. “Wonwoo,” he curls a hand behind Wonwoo’s neck, “kiss me, kiss me please.” 

“Of course, baby,” Wonwoo presses a kiss to his lips, “anything you want.” He thumbs over the tip of Mingyu’s cock with his wet fingers and Mingyu stills for a fraction of a second at the touch. The glide around his cock is smooth from Mingyu’s spit and precome and it’s a little filthy but it’s exactly how they both like it. Mingyu starts rolling his hips, bucking up into Wonwoo’s hand, words muffled by Wonwoo’s lips on his.

“You should see yourself in the mirror,” Wonwoo whispers into his ear, “how spread out and beautiful you look right now. Maybe one day I’d fuck you against one so you can see yourself. You’d like it, wouldn’t you?” 

“Please,” Mingyu whimpers.

“Please, what? Tell me what you want.”

Mingyu licks his lips, “I want to ride you.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen. “Oh.” He rolls off Mingyu and lies down on the bed and Mingyu grabs the lube and condoms from his drawer and hovers above his lap, eyes glinting.

He strokes Wonwoo’s cock to full hardness and rolls the condom on him, lubing him up, asksing, “Do you want to help me prepare myself or do you want to watch?”

“To watch,” Wonwoo replies.

Mingyu hums and pushes a finger in himself, then another one, then another one. Wonwoo watches Mingyu fuck himself on his fingers, his head tipped back and his chest layered with sweat, his skin shining in the pale light of the moon and he wants and _wants_. There’s something mesmerizing about the rise and fall of Mingyu’s chest, his laboured breathing and his soft groans. His hair is plastered to his forehead and Wonwoo reaches to brush it away from his eyes. Mingyu lets out a smile but then his face twists in pleasure when he brushes his prostate. 

He’s aching to touch either Mingyu or himself but resists, waiting for Mingyu to be ready. It takes a few more moments of Mingyu’s whines before he lines himself up with Wonwoo’s cock and then slowly sinks down, inch by inch, his hands resting on Wonwoo’s chest for support, breathing heavily. He bottoms out, eyes squeezing shut.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, “it’s just, ah, been a while.”

Wonwoo watches, putting his hands on Mingyu’s hips. Mingyu lifts his hips slowly and then sinks back down. He rolls his hips a few more times experimentally. “You can move now,” Mingyu gives him the heads up. 

Wonwoo fucks up into him slowly, his thrusts shallow at first. He focuses on the way Mingyu is tight around him, on the sounds he’s letting out and how he’s clawing at his chest from the pleasure and pain of it all. 

“You’re doing so good,” Wonwoo encourages. He notices the subtle shake in Mingyu’s thighs every time he moves up and down, the furrow of his brow in concentration, the stutter of his hips. Mingyu preens a little under the praise, determined to do better. He lifts himself up midway and then sinks back down, hitting his prostate, and almost collapses onto Wonwoo. 

“You’re getting tired.”

Mingyu shakes his head, “I’m okay, I’m good.”

“You are good,” Wonwoo kisses his temple, “you’re the best. Let me take the lead now.” He pulls out, flipping them over. He puts a pillow under Mingyu’s hips and enters him slowly again, and Mingyu’s mouth goes slack. 

“God,” Mingyu says, “I missed this. I missed you.” His hand searches Wonwoo’s so he could intertwine them and Wonwoo smiles at the little moment of tenderness that slips through Mingyu, so he cups Mingyu’s cheeks gently and fucks him hard and fast. 

Mingyu’s cock is leaking precum onto his stomach, and Wonwoo wraps a hand between their bodies to get Mingyu off. Mingyu comes all over his hand with a few flicks of Wonwoo’s wrist and a gasp, burying his face into the space between Wonwoo’s neck and shoulder, wet lips kissing at the skin, hot to the touch. 

Mingyu wraps a legs around Wonwoo’s waist and hiccups when Wonwoo hits his prostate at a deeper angle, tightening around him in a way that leaves no room for Wonwoo but to spill into the condom and try not to black out from the intensity of the orgasm. 

Wonwoo pulls out and sees Mingyu grinning, a blissed out expression on his face even though he’s tired. His eyes droop and his hands tangle in Wonwoo’s hair when Wonwoo makes a move to pull back.

“Don’t go,” Mingyu whines. 

“I won’t,” Wonwoo says. “I just need to clean you up.”

“Will you stay over?” Mingyu asks. “Please stay over.”

“I will,” Wonwoo says. He returns from the bathroom to Mingyu snoring slightly on his side, eyes closed and face peaceful. For the first time Wonwoo allows himself to sit and admire how pretty Mingyu looks when he’s asleep. He runs a wet towel over Mingyu’s stomach and thighs and then over his own and climbs into bed. Mingyu wraps his body around him like a koala and Wonwoo falls asleep like that, to the sound of his and Mingyu’s hearts beating in tandem. 

When he wakes, it's to a cloudy day and the pitter patter of rain. He feels the press of Mingyu’s nose against his neck and then a feather of a kiss behind his ear. 

“Eggs and toast?” Mingyu asks, voice low and sleepy, drumming his hands over Wonwoo’s ribs like he’s playing the piano. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice and Wonwoo turns around to him grinning shyly but brightly. It’s cloudy outside because the sun is right there with me, Wonwoo briefly thinks. He cups Mingyu’s cheek and Mingyu leans into his touch naturally. 

A sense of déjà vu from the very first night he slept with Mingyu washes over Wonwoo, only now the knot of the mixed up relationship they went through is unravelling and going in the correct linear order it should’ve gone all along in the first place. There’s Mingyu, looking at him and him only, and there’s a start of something new. 

“I’d love that,” Wonwoo says. 

**Author's Note:**

> it’s all about different types of love for the people you hold close to you.. yeah... 
> 
> as always, title is by scott hamilton !
> 
> twt: jazzgyu


End file.
